Dangerous Schemes (And Where to Find Them)
by stuckunderwater
Summary: "You really don't know much about America, do you Mr. Scamander? The Magical Congress isn't the only force at play here." Or: Percival Graves has a plan, Tina Goldstein is more dangerous than she seems, Newt Scamander is confused and American magical society has been fighting a civil war since the colonists arrived with guns and wands blazing. Crossposted from Harry Potter section
1. A Dangerous Beginning

_I really enjoyed Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. However, I wanted to write a version of the story that really reflects the difference in politics and cultural dynamics between the United States and Britain and went where Rowling seemed somewhat hesitant to go. This is going to be darker than Fantastic Beasts, but hopefully more in tune with rational magical politics. Also, yes, Percival Graves existed outside of Grindelwald pretending to be him because let's be real, Grindelwald has better things to do then spend all his time romping around New York playing cop._

* * *

Percival Graves considered the woman sitting across from him. From the irritated look she gave him, she didn't quite appreciate his consideration. He had to make a small note of admiration however. She hadn't flinched or tried to escape. She'd surrendered her wand willingly and marched to his office on command. Still, she didn't look particularly remorseful- and considering her crime, she really should have at least tried.

"Miss Goldstein," he said, rolling his name off her lips. "Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Porpetina Goldstein (Tina to her friends, not that she had many) tilted her head at him. Her brown hair swung in its tight cut bob.

"I wanted to help them," she said. "That shouldn't be a crime."

"I'm afraid what is a crime and what isn't is not your jurisdiction," Percival said. "But I didn't want to talk about how you fed some No-Maj orphans bread for a year before being caught. I want to talk about their adoptive mother."

Tina stilled for a moment. Percival smiled. It wasn't a very friendly smile- he was rather fond of the chilling effect it had.

"Mary Lou Barebone disappeared a year ago. It was rather fortuitous as you know- she seemed fanatical enough to go on a purge of those she suspected, even if no sane No-Maj would take her seriously. But you know that, don't you Miss Goldstein?"

Tina was silent for a long moment. When she spoke again her voice was low.

"What do you want?" she asked. Percival smiled wider.

"I don't care that you killed some fanatic No-Maj," he said. "Nor do I care that you cultivated some sort of illegal maternal relationship with a few useless orphans in an attempt to pay for your perceived sins. But both you and I know that what you did will mean the end of your career of your Auror."

Tina raised an eyebrow.

"Unless you help me?"

"Unless indeed," Percival said. He leaned over the dark oak desk and clasped Tina's hands in his. They shook slightly in his grasp. So she wasn't quite as calm as she looked. More the use for him. "Unless we can both help each other."

Tina took a deep breath.

"What do you need me to do?"

* * *

A few hours later and sunlight had transitioned to night. Percival finished stacking the papers on his desk (the piles of paperwork to do were getting dangerously high) and leaned against the window for a minute. The glass felt freezing cold to the touch. Across the street lamps started lighting in windows.

"Hello Percival," Leta said. He did his best to hide his flinch.

"Leta," he said, not turning to greet her. "You really should knock." Leta Lestrange made her way over to the table, the scraping of the chair behind the desk as she pulled it out to sit down hurting his ears. He turned around to face her. She propped her dragon hide boots up on his desk. Unlike American wizards and witches, Leta had refused to adopt No-Maj apparel while visiting the states. Her robes were traditionally cut from fine black fabric. It made Percival glad he had worn his bespoke suit that day.

"I'll be out of your hair soon enough," she said. "Just thought I'd come by for a chat before my ship sails."

"I'm sure you have nothing but the most benign of intentions."

Leta smiled at him. Her smile was kind, the sort to make any heart warm. Her smile made Percival wary. With a careful flip of her robe she lowered her feet from the desk and made her way next to him. She placed an exquisitely manicured hand on his arm.

"I just wanted to make sure we left on the same page. I'd hate for any misunderstandings to occur."

Percival resisted the temptation to roll his eyes.

"The Magical Congress isn't going to get involved. We both know that."

Leta bit her lip and looked up at him, fluttering her eyelashes. If he'd been particularly inclined towards women, it might even have worked.

"Politicians flow to the will of the people. The people hold the power."

"And the power is growing restless at its chains. Still, no one cares about Europe's troubles. They may be scared, but they don't care about something a sea away. No need to worry yet. You can tell your master that."

Leta pouted at him.

"He isn't my master any more than he is yours."

"Good luck defending that in court," Percival drawled. Leta sighed.

"Keep me updated on the sentiment of your citizens. We will both need allies in the fight ahead," she said. Percival nodded. She smiled at him again, rather cheekily. "For the Greater Good."

"May your war be over soon."

"And may yours."

At that statement, Percival looked sharply at her. How had she- With a wink Leta spun on one foot and disappeared. Rubbing his head Percival settled back down behind his desk. In the center where Leta had placed it sat the memo she must have seen. In flashing large font the header was hard to miss.

 **Navajo Magical Nation harboring fugitives. President Piquery will consider military action tomorrow.**

* * *

Newt Scamander was easily flustered. One might even say it was a common trait of his. He preferred to say he simply cared a lot. Still, he rather thought that chasing an escaped Niffler down the busy streets of New York would make anyone flustered. As he dashed past, bumping into people (one woman smashed him over the head with a handbag in protest) he could feel his case thumping with energy besides him.

"Merlin's beard," he muttered as he spotted the Niffler emerging out of a woman's pocket holding a diamond broach. He took a deep breath and leaned back. Then, with a quick hop he knocked her over, spilling her purse to the ground and grabbing the Niffler at the same time, stuffing her under his jacket.

"Thief!" the lady screamed. Her dress had been most likely beautiful at one point- now dung and various filth from the street stuck to the blue silk. "Thief!"

"Now that's just rude-" Newt began then dove to the ground as she swung her bag at his head, still screaming. " _Silencio_." The woman continued screaming, but nothing could be heard.

"Now what's the problem here?" a tall man in a constable uniform asked, looking down at Newt. "Stealing from respectable citizens?" The constable's rather bushy brown mustache twitched as spoke. With a quick heave he lifted Newt off the ground and pulled his arms tight behind his back. Newt struggled but his wand slipped deeper into his pocket. "I'll take care of this ma'am."

A few more steps and Newt had been pulled into the alleyway. As pedestrians moved away from the amusing scene the alley emptied and it was just Newt and the constable. The constable let go of Newt's arms, shoving him against the cobblestone wall and the pigeon dung coating it, briefcase falling to the ground. With a quick slide Newt darted his hand into his pocket to grab his wand.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," the constable said with a much higher voice. As Newt watched in amazement his darted into the rapidly changing hand of the constable. A quick wave of the constable's wand and the air around them shimmered with a cloaking spell. Another wave and the constable's face melted into the stern face of a woman with a no-nonsense brown bob.

"Mr. Scamander, I believe?" she asked. Newt nodded. "My name is Auror Goldstein. You are under arrest."

* * *

The little brown house had seen better days. It had seen worse days too. It had seen days of children being forcibly dragged away from screaming parents. It had seen days of men in official suits calmly Avada-ing warriors one by one in a line. But this day, it was seeing a war council in progress.

At the head of the table, Yanaha looked grimly at the map in front of her. With a nod, the man next to her sliced open his palm. With a few drips of blood on the parchment, the scene began to draw itself.

"They're coming," Shilah said, blood still dripping from his palm. "We should have never taken the girl in."

"They took our children. A whole generation lost," Yanaha said. "One girl taken in for safety will never equal that."

In the corner, Queenie Goldstein watched quietly as the war council met. Next to her Jacob stood there, hand clutched in his.

"I won't let them take you," he whispered to her. "I won't."

Queenie smiled at him, or tried to. If her smile seemed forced, Jacob couldn't tell. His determination to protect her swirled at the top of his mind. So easy to read. She'd loved that once. Someone who didn't try to hide his thoughts from her, who embraced her not for her powers but for her.

"We all know they're not coming for me," Queenie said, her voice soft. "They're coming because of what they want."

Yanaha twisted her mouth into a sneer, not at Queenie so much as at the world that had been taken from her people so long ago.

"We are not kidnappers. We are not the massacrers," she said. Queenie nodded.

"You are brave," she said.

"No thanks to your kind," Shilah said, his voice cold. At Yanaha's look he subsided. "We expect you to fight with us."

"Don't they all," Queenie said, then nodded. "My wand is at the disposal of the Navajo Nation."

"We don't need your wand," Yanaha said. "We need your Legilimency."

* * *

 _Next chapter: Newt is confused, Tina is conflicted, and Queenie and Yanaha prepare to fight a war. If you enjoyed this, please review! I treasure all comments._


	2. History Lessons

_Thank you to those who reviewed! The basic premise behind this story was to properly integrate American history into the magical conflicts presented by the movie. One shadow over American history is the treatment of Native Americans, and that's why a major part of this story will be about ongoing conflicts between the Navajo Magical Nation and the Magical Congress. Don't worry, however, Grindelwald and his schemes will still appear._

* * *

Tina marched down the halls of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, dragging Newt Scamander along with her. He still looked shocked. His hair was a mess of riotous brown curls. In any other situation she might have thought it was charming. Instead all she could think of was her worries. To think she'd idolized Graves for a while. She should have known. They eventually reached her office and she waved her wand, floating a chair over for Newt. He stood awkwardly by it and she raised an eyebrow, gesturing at it until he sat down. She sat down on the other side of her desk. At least her new desk was nice. Oak, solid too. A perk of her promotion.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I haven't done anything." His case shook for a second. Tina looked at it and raised an eyebrow. "Residual spell work, sorry."

"I'm sure," she said dryly. "Tell me Mr. Scamander, do you have a wand permit?"

Newt's eyes widened for a second and he coughed into his hand.

"I applied for one," he said. "It seems to have been misplaced."

"Wand permits are mandatory for all witches and wizards in American territory, even foreigners. That's a deportable offense."

She took a long look at Newt. Years of being an Auror had fine-tuned her senses and she could see the cracks forming.

"Look," he said. "I just need to get to Kentucky. I have to visit a friend. I'll get a wand permit, whatever you need."

Tina took a deep breath. There it was. The crack, the one to exploit.

"Well, Mr. Scamander, it may just be your lucky day after all. What we need is for you to tell us everything you know about a creature known as an Obscurus."

Newt's head snapped up so fast she was surprised he didn't get whiplash.

"I don't know anything about an Obscurus."

Tina raised an eyebrow delicately, trying to mimic the haughty manners of President Piquery. She had a feeling it wasn't quite working.

"Really? And here I was told you were an expert on all sorts of magical creatures."

Newt looked at her for a long minute. His mouth pressed into a firm line.

"You knew who I was before you brought me here," he said. "This isn't a coincidence, is it?" He leaned forwards in his chair. "What sort of thing is brewing in the Magical Congress?"

"I'm afraid the affairs of Magical Law Enforcement are none of your business," Tina snapped. Newt looked at her with hooded eyes. Earlier she'd gotten the impression they were often full of laughter and light. Now she couldn't tell where that impression had come from.

"They are when they're wrong."

"It's not for you to judge."

"I'm afraid I already have. Your refusal to allow mixing with Muggles, your abduction of Muggleborns-"

Tina realized she was gripping the desk so hard with her non-wand hand that she'd lodged a splinter in it. With physical effort she relaxed and leaned back in her seat.

"You really don't know much about America, do you Mr. Scamander?" she asked. He had the audacity to look confusedly at her. "The Magical Congress isn't the only force at play here." She lifted a blank permit from the stack on her left and filled it out. "Here is your wand permit." Newt stretched out a hand for it and she pulled it just out of reach. "You can have it after you tell me everything you know about Obscuri."

"And then I can go to Kentucky?"

"And then you can dance your way across the sea for all I care. Obscuri, Mr. Scamander."

Newt looked at her for a long minute, then nodded.

"We have a deal Auror Goldstein," he said. Tina nodded back and wondered if enough water would get the taste of bile out of her mouth.

* * *

Yanaha watched the sun set on the porch of the little brown house. The yard outside had died long ago. No need to maintain it. These days they only came here when the war council met. Streaks of red and yellow lit up the sky. If she had been taught, she could have painted it in the sand. There hadn't been someone to teach her where she'd grown up. She'd been lucky to escape.

"Are you alright?" Queenie asked quietly from behind her. Yanaha closed her eyes for a moment, then slowly opened them.

"I was watching the sunset," she said. "Yellow represents the west, you know. The yellow sun setting into a yellow sky." Queenie came up to stand next to her on the porch.

"I didn't know that," Queenie said. Yanaha laughed dryly.

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. They don't teach our ways in that school of yours."

"No, they don't," Queenie said, then looked down at Yanaha's hand. "But you know them. You know them both." Yanaha turned to look at her in shock. How did she- "I saw the wand tucked in your satchel. There's only one place you would have gotten it."

"A wand is a crutch," Yanaha said, rolling the words off her tongue, trying to make them sound forceful. Queenie looked at her with a sad smile. "It took me years to realize it."

"I never saw you at Ilvermorny."

Yanaha shook her head.

"I escaped before I was sent there. They place us in homes of proper American wizarding families if we're too young when they find us. Kill all the Indian inside of us, let the real witch emerge is how they put it. Mine certainly tried."

Queenie reached out and took her hand. Yanaha tried to restrain her instinctive flinch. Her hand was warm and soft. No calluses there. A woman who hadn't ever done hard labor. For a long moment they stood there in the dimming sunlight, hand in hand. It felt almost nice.

"Shilah doesn't trust me," Queenie said.

"Shilah still thinks if we kicked you out of our territory we'd avoid a war."

"You might for a while," Queenie said. "But they'll find an excuse."

"They always do," Yanaha said. They stood there as the sun finished setting, still hand in hand. She could feel the four sacred mountains thrumming through her. She could always feel them, ever since she made her way into the land of the Diné as a tired hungry child. She'd stepped onto the land, tossed her wand to the ground, and felt the mountains welcome her.

In front of her, a shimmering apparition of a hogan slowly appeared. As Queenie laughed in delight it grew, black, white, blue, and yellow streaming around it. Yanaha reached out a hand and felt the welcome course through her. Another stream of colors and it vanished.

"We should eat," Yanaha said, letting go of Queenie's hand with reluctance.

"Let me guess, mutton and corn again?"

For the first time in days Yanaha smiled.

"You guessed it." They looked at each other for a long moment. "Eat your fill. We start the fight tomorrow."

* * *

Leta truly disliked crossing the ocean. Steamships were so dull, even when she Imperiused the crew into treating her like a queen. Walking back onto dry land truly was a treat after the last few days at sea. She looked forward to the day when she wouldn't have to disguise herself as a Muggle in order to travel. As she left her adoring crew behind she could see the telltale flicker of a Disillusionment charm from the corner of her eye. Leta made her way down the docks until she'd cleared the crowd then palmed her wand, black robes unfurling as her illusion of a Muggle dress disappeared.

"Don't be a stranger," Leta said, her voice almost a coo. "Come and talk to me."

Against the wall the Disillusionment charm disappeared to reveal Karl, dressed in long black robes. Unlike Leta's, his were made of rough wool. His short blond hair he kept cropped close to his head.

"Gellert wishes to speak to you," he said. Leta smiled.

"First name basis are we?" she said. "How wonderful. I'll see our lord right after I freshen up." She moved to take a step and Karl lifted his wand idly. Leta tilted her head.

"He wishes to speak to you now."

Leta let out a sigh, spinning her wand around her fingertips. Karl tracked the movement, eyes darting back and forth.

"His wish is my command," she said. "Lead the way."

Karl reached out his hand and pulled her towards him. A quick burst of magic and they Apparated into a pristine forest. Birds chirped around them cheerfully. As they walked through the forest they trampled small white flowers underfoot. Eventually they reached a small cottage nestled under a large oak tree. The trees branches hung over it, shading the cottage from the sun. The cottage looked old, but well maintained. Someone had invested a lot of time and care into it. As Karl and Leta walked towards the cottage she could feel the wards scanning them. It felt like an itch sliding up and down her back. Apparently she passed because she didn't ignite on the spot.

Karl led her up to the cottage door and gestured at her. With a firm hand she knocked three times. The door swung open and she walked inside, Karl turning to guard the doorway. Inside was a small kitchen with cheerful floral curtains hung over the window. In the center at the wooden table sat the most dangerous man in Europe. He was drinking tea out of a bone china cup.

"Come sit," Gellert Grindelwald said, raising his wand. A chair slid out next to him. "We have much to discuss."

* * *

 _Next chapter: Yanaha makes an inspiring speech, Tina and Newt learn more about each other and Leta has an interesting discussion. If you enjoyed this, please review! I treasure all comments._


	3. Meeting of the Minds

Yanaha fingered the turquoise beads of her necklace as she stood in the center of the hogan. Around her sat representatives of the various groups of warriors. They looked up to her, the woman who was to lead them into battle. A woman who was suddenly sick to her stomach. Shilah entered quietly and nodded to her. As many civilians as they could had been evacuated, Shilah leading them to warded dwellings. Here on the weakest front all that were left were warriors, both men and women (except the stubborn few who refused to leave. She couldn't blame them. A home was dear to the heart, especially to a people who had watched their sacred land be stolen bit by bit, first by non magical soldiers then after resistance by Congress wizards who claimed their resistance was a threat to the Statue of Secrecy. They had been unprepared then, chipped away piece by piece, stolen child by child. Yanaha was determined that this would never happen again.) In the corner Queenie sat with Jacob's arm around her. She looked at Yanaha and smiled.

"Brothers. Sisters," Yanaha said, raising her hand. She felt the mountains' power course through her and with a soft glow light began to emanate from the air above their heads, lighting up the interior as the sun set. "We all know why we're gathered here." She took a deep breath and looked around. "We've spent generations running and hiding. Letting them take us inch by inch. Letting them take our children to grow up without learning of our culture, their heritage. I say no more."

The light turned to bathe her in an ethereal glow and suddenly her sick stomach righted itself. She could feel the harmony that the Hogan had been blessed with streaming through her. She was righteous. She was balanced.

"They've let the non magical soldiers strip us to pieces because they are scared. They've stabbed us in the back like cowards because they are scared. Scared of what power we have that they don't understand. Scared because they are crippled by their reliance on a wand." She turned to look at Queenie and Jacob. "They will say they are coming because we have stolen something from them. They've stolen a generation from us." She turned to look at the warriors. Shilah looked at her with a proud beam in his eyes. The warriors nodded as they took in her words. "It's time we restored balance to our land. It's time we restored harmony." The people around her clapped and shouted as she ended her speech. Next to her, the Hataałii stepped up and began a chant. As he sang, she could feel magic weaving in and out of her, growing with every word, bursting through the seams. She nodded, and stepped outside.

Outside the air felt cool and dry against her skin. She ran her hand down her long braid, twisted the turquoise beads on her necklace. In the distance she heard a boom.

"What was that?" Shilah said, moving to stand next to her. Light flashed in the distance.

"That's the sacred border magic," she said. "It's started." Shilah ducked back into the Hogan to call everyone to order. Within moments warriors were streaming out, finding their groups, readying to march to the conflict.

"Where do you want me?" Queenie asked, pulling Jacob behind her. Yanaha looked down at their interlocked hands. Queenie blushed and dropped Jacob's hand.

"Come with me," she said. "We're going to take the fight to the enemy."

* * *

"Good Merlin," Newt whispered as he took in the scene of devastation before him. The entire building had crumbled to the ground. As he watched, witches and wizards in Auror robes renewed the wards hiding the building. As far as Muggles (or whatever the Americans called them- was it No-Majs?) were concerned this building had never existed.

"The Senator for New York was killed in the destruction," Tina said, close to his ear. He could feel the warming charm she'd cast on herself. It was somewhat… comforting. That was strange. "It took quite a lot of effort to cover it up. Do you see why we asked you now?"

"Yes I do," Newt said, gazing at the imprint of a body in the dust. It wasn't hard to imagine a bloodless body there, the black scarring that was the mark of an Obscurial crisscrossing the Senator's face. It must have been terrifying to be there, especially if you were a powerless Muggle.

"Tina!" an imperious voice demanded behind them. They turned to see a tall woman with braided grey hair and a angry expression marching towards them. "How dare you bring a civilian onto a crime scene!" The woman marched up, attempting to use her height to make Tina cower. Instead, Newt detected the faintest hint of a smile on Tina's face. It changed her whole demeanor. She looked pretty. Newt mentally shook his head. This wasn't the time to be thinking of things like that.

"That's Auror Goldstein to you, Auror Smith," Tina said, back straight. "And I authorized him to enter this scene. Or have you forgotten that I can do that now?"

Auror Smith sputtered, her hand tightening around her wand.

"How dare you-"

"If you have nothing else to object to, Mr. Scamander and I wish to continue our observations. Director Graves expects a full report. I would hate to tell him we were unable to provide him with one."

Auror Smith sputtered for another moment, then abruptly turned around and walked off in a huff. Tina's hint of a smile grew to a full one.

"Sorry about that," she said to Newt, though she didn't sound particularly apologetic. "Auror Smith was rather upset about my recent promotion. She thinks it should have gone to someone more senior."

"Someone like her?" Newt guessed.

"Exactly," Tina said, then gestured at the scene. "I'm going to have to ask you to keep anything we discover today confidential. If word got out that we suspected an Obscurial-"

"I understand," Newt said, and he did. He remembered what happened in Somalia.

"Thank you," Tina said, smiling up at him, her whole face lighting up. Newt felt himself smiling involuntarily in response. He tried to remind himself that he was an unwilling participant in this investigation, but she really was charming when she wasn't interrogating him. "Only the Director and I are aware of this possibility at the moment. And now you as well. We want to confirm our suspicions before making this public."

Newt and Tina walked around the devastation, Newt trailing a hand over the remains of the stone and metal. He stopped to kneel down at a particularly interesting pile of what had been a tall pillar.

"See these burn marks?" he said, tracing a finger over the patterns. Tina knelt down next to him, elbow brushing against his. "These look like the patterns caused by the dark magic of an Obscurus." He stood up, brushing his hands off. "I'll need to see the body to be sure."

"That'll be difficult," Tina said. Newt raised an eyebrow. "How do you feel about grave-robbing, Mr. Scamander?"

* * *

"Leta my dear," Gellert Grindlewald said, pouring Leta a cup of tea in a chipped mug. "How was your trip?"

"As good as can be expected with Muggles," Leta said, wrinkling her nose. Gellert laughed, a beautiful deep throated laugh, and Leta gazed at him for a moment as she was reminded just why wizards and witches everywhere would die for this man. She wouldn't, of course, but it was always good to remember.

"And our friend in the Magical Congress?" he asked. He idly turned his wand in his fingers and the teapot poured him a new cup of tea. Another flick and milk and sugar dispensed themselves into his cup. "One sugar or two?"

"One please," Leta said. An engraved silver spoon served a single helping of sugar into her cup. "As loyal as ever. Which isn't much." Gellert raised an eyebrow and sipped his tea. "He agrees with the common cause of course, which isn't the hard part in America. They're more terrified of Muggles than any country I've ever visited."

"They did have a rather enthusiastic witch hunt not too far back in history," Gellert pointed out. Leta shrugged. As far as she was concerned history could keep itself in the past where it belonged.

"They believe in total seclusion. To the extent that when Muggleborns are identified they rescue them and bring them into wizarding society." She remembered who she was talking and added a hasty addendum. "As I'm sure you know already." Gellert shrugged. "And you won't have trouble finding someone who understands the natural higher position of wizards or witches. But they're not willing to take that final step for the greater good."

"Our friend cannot help with that?"

"Percival is more concerned with a war brewing under his own nose."

Gellert made a noise of interest. Leta took a sip of tea and continued.

"You know relations with the natives have always been…troubled."

"Yes, the inevitable conflict between the magic of wands and the magic of spirit." Gellert took a long look at his own long wand, holding it tightly between two fingers. "I was under the impression that Magical America had the natives under control."

"Well the natives don't quite agree. Some incident must have occurred- I'm not quite sure what, but the Magical Congress is gearing up for a war." She looked at Gellert. "If you wish us to make a move in America, this could be our chance."

Gellert stood up from the table and walked over to the window, turning his back to Leta.

"This cottage used to belong to an old wizard. He lived here for decades." Gellert's voice was calm, solemn. "Yesterday I came to him. I wanted to discuss some spells he'd been hoarding from far back in his family line." Gellert's grip around his wand tightened. "When I got here, I found the wizard- and the young witch he was keeping captive. Almost a child. He said it was alright because she was born of muggles." His voice lowered to a hiss. "She had magic running through her veins and he treated her like an animal. Like a muggle toy to throw away." He turned back to face to Leta and she shrunk from the anger on his face. "I made his death slow and painful."

"That is horrible," Leta said, "but I fail to see-"

"This is what the prejudice in Europe has reduced us to. If you think America is any better, forget that thought. They may be better in some, but they will balance it out in other ways." Gellert took Leta's hand in hers. She stared into his eyes. The fury in them scared her. The fury in them sparked her own. She'd been lying to herself. She would die for him. "This is what we battle for. To end our infighting, to forge our magical world into one that can create something incredible. Something that will lead our kind into a new age."

"For the Greater Good," Leta said, her voice echoing through the cottage.

"For the Greater Good," Gellert whispered. He squeezed her hand. "Go my dear. Go and forge something incredible in the New World. And when you're ready, I will come and help it rise."

* * *

 _Next chapter: Queenie is more than she appears and Newt meets a strange young man named Credence. If you enjoyed this, please review! I treasure all comments._


	4. The Enemy Within

The moonlight shone down on the flowers covering Henry Shaw Jr's grave. He hadn't been a particularly good man, but he'd apparently been a particularly loved senator. That, or the family was paying a fortune in flowers and fake mourners to make him look good even after death. Tina wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

"Was he the victim?" Newt asked quietly. Tina nodded.

"The Obscurial collapsed the whole hall, but it looks like he was the target," she said. "Now, of course, as far as No-Majs are concerned the hall never existed."

"Of course," Newt echoed, a bit of a snarky tone in his voice. Tina narrowed her eyes, prepared to (verbally) skewer him for laughing at her but he'd already occupied himself with levitating clods of dirt out of the grave. She raised her wand and joined in. For a few minutes they cast silently, carefully depositing the dirt to the side until the gleam of gold from the coffin appeared. Newt took a step towards it, twirling his wand and slowly descended through the air next to the coffin. Tina let herself free fall into the grave as well, slowing her descent with a cushioning charm. Another quick spark of magic and the coffin lid opened.

" _Revelio,"_ Tina whispered and the perfect visage of Shaw's body disappeared to reveal a face covered with black burns in a crisscross problem. Newt leaned in, closer and closer, and… took a sniff? "What are you doing?"

"I'm doing what you asked me to," he whispered back. "I need to concentrate." Newt cast a silent summoning charm to bring his case down into the grave. It landed with a thump and shook. Newt popped it open and with a swift motion hopped into it, his body sucked into the tiny space of the opening.

"What," Tina said. The briefcase didn't answer. "I don't know why I'm surprised." She tapped her fingers against her leg - one two, one two - until Newt's hand emerged from the case. With a pop he shot out of the case, a glass vial in one hand, and landed on top of the coffin.

"Mind closing that for me?" he asked. Tina carefully latched the briefcase. It trembled under her touch.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to the vial.

"Nundu blood," he said absentmindedly, pouring a few drops on Shaw's face. "Good for discerning spell intensity."

"That's a Class 3 banned substance!"

Newt turned and grinned at her.

"Is it?" With a hiss black steam began to rise from Shaw's face and he turned his attention back to the body. "Oh splendid, it's working." The black steam curled up towards the sky, twisting and turning in a rather menacing way. As it passed by Newt he stuck his finger out towards it. With a hiss the steam lunged at him. Tina flinched. Newt just raised his wand, unperturbed, and made a clockwise circle, muttering under his breath. With another hiss the steam curled into a small ball with a white light at the center.

"What does that mean?" Tina asked. Newt continued gazing at the ball, eyes narrowing. With a wave the steam erupted into the sky with a bang. "New- Mr. Scamander!" Newt picked up his briefcase and jumped up, flying out of the grave. Tina huffed and followed him up into the air. With careful waves they deposited the dirt back into the grave. A few more spells and it looked untouched.

"What was that all about?" she asked as she grabbed his arm to Apparate back. When Newt didn't answer she mentally sighed in exasperation and Apparated him to outside a dinghy old cafe. The battered sign outside announced that it was called "The 24-hour Stewhouse." She pushed him in through the door and sat them both down in a dimly lit booth. Across the room a waitress sucked on her cigarette and didn't move to take their orders.

"You have exactly thirty seconds to answer me or I'm marching you to MACUSA and revoking your wand permit," she announced. Newt looked up at here, finally meeting her eyes. He looked worried- maybe more than worried. He looked scared and a chill shot down her spine.

"I've never seen that much power in my life," he said. It wasn't a chill shooting down her spine anymore, it was an icy river.

"Are you saying-"

"I'm saying that there's never been a known case of an Obscurial living past ten." A shadow passed through his eyes- there was some trauma there he wasn't telling her. Her Auror instincts wanted her to pick at it, but she ignored them. "Their power grows with every year until it tears them apart. But this… this is something new."

"An adult?"

"No, I don't think so. But not a child." He looked at her, eyes locking. "Very few young witches or wizards become an Obscurial. It doesn't just require a non-acceptance of magic; it requires an active deep loathing of it. It requires being brought up with the knowledge of magic and a deep rooted hatred of it. A hatred reinforced with abuse, both psychological and physical."

 _No._ The word echoed through Tina. Because she knew three children like that. She'd saved them. But they couldn't- but they-

"That's horrible," she said, breaking eye contact. "Would you be able to find them?"

Newt gestured helplessly.

"I might be able to, with enough time-"

"All right. We'll try tomorrow. I trust you can find your way to your lodgings from here?"

Newt nodded. Tina stood up and made her way out quickly, trying to conceal her hands shaking. It couldn't be. They couldn't be. Still, if she went and checked-

Preoccupied in her own thoughts, Tina didn't see Newt's eyes narrow as he watched her leave. Nor did she see him watch her carefully as she Apparated away. Why would she? She was too busy breaking inside with the knowledge she'd just discovered.

 _Chastity. Modesty. Credence._

* * *

 ** _18 years ago._**

 _The girl stood there. Blank faced. Blank eyed. Tina watched her mother tip a potion into the girl's mouth. The potion smoked as it went in, the girl collapsed as it went in. The girl lay there on the bed, long black hair neatly braided back, smooth brown skin warming by the minute._

 _"Who is she?" Tina asked._

 _"Your new sister," her mother said. "Her name is Ruth." A cry echoed from downstairs- Queenie was awake, and like most newborn babies, not happy about it. "Watch her for a moment, Tina?" Before Tina could answer her mother darted back downstairs._

 _"Hello Ruth," she said, not expecting an answer. "Welcome to the family."_

 _The girl's eyes opened and she screamed._

 ** _17 years ago._**

 _After Mother went to sleep Tina crept into Ruth's room. Ruth lay there on the bed, rubbing the side of her arm. There were red marks on it._

 _"Are you all right?" Tina whispered. Ruth nodded._

 _"I'm alright," she said. "She used some spell that filled my mouth and throat with soap. I thought I was going to drown for a bit."_

 _"You shouldn't be speaking it. You know you're not supposed to even know it. She's trying to help."_

 _"I know."_

 _They sat there in the quiet of night for a long moment._

 ** _16 years ago._**

 _"She was supposed to be Obliviated," her mother hisses in sharp tones to the man downstairs. "You said I'd be getting a new child, not this, this menace."_

 _"Obliviation is tricky on small children," the man says in a reassuring tone. "By the time she gets to Illvermorny she'll have fallen in line."_

 _"And if she doesn't? I hear her speaking it in her sleep. That horrible savage gibberish."_

 _"We'll deal with it."_

 _From her hidden perch on the stairs, Tina shivered._

 ** _15 years ago._**

 _"Mother!" Tina screamed from downstairs. She'd heard the crash, seen Ruth go upstairs. "Mother!" She ran upstairs, feet pummeling every step. Another crash and she burst through the door._

 _Ruth stood there over the motionless body of her mother. In her hand she held her mother's wand. It pointed straight at Tina's heart._

 _"Don't make me do this Tina," she said. "I don't want to hurt you."_

 _"Ruth, please. Please."_

 _"My name is Yanaha."_

 _With a flash of light everything went dark._

* * *

Newt had been kicked out of Hogwarts. He could not deny that. But it wasn't a lack of aptitude that had gotten him kicked out. And when it came to tracking spells- well, there was a reason he was a respected expert on magical zoology at the age of 28. In the lab inside his briefcase he carefully held the strand of hair he'd plucked from Auror Goldstein in one of his many "clumsy" moments. In the other he held a potion made with the blood of one of the most dangerous magical creatures in the world- an Erumpent. With a quick gulp he swallowed the potion and levitated out of the briefcase. The buckles took a moment to cooperate; Newt frowned, but considering how specialized a piece of equipment it was, it wasn't like he could just go buy a replacement. He'd have to go back to the woman who made it and that wasn't really an option. Not anymore at least.

Newt turned his head from side to side and with a ghost-like air Tina's trail lit up in front of him. Or rather, he saw Tina's trail lit up in him. Anyone who came near him would see his eyes rolled back into his head leaving only white behind. Another flick of the wand and he rose into the air. The problem with this tracking spell was it insisted on taking the most direct route. From inside his collar Picket the bowtruckle chirped in encouragement. This wasn't the first hunt they'd been on together.

Newt bounded down streets and across the tops of buildings, (disillusioned) feet flying, hair whipping back in the wind. Picket hummed next to his ear. This was the life, this was the truest feeling in the world, the hunt, the-

The trail ended at a battered two-story building. In the small window at the top he could see Tina's silhouette. She seemed to be arguing with someone. A whispered "Alohomora" and a quick climb up a flight of stairs and Newt was outside the door. He whispered a silencing spell and with a push opened the door a crack to see inside.

"Please," Tina said. Her hands were outstretched, pleading. A boy in a severe dark suit stared back at her, awkwardly cut black hair askew. "Just listen to me."

"You're the one who left us," he said. "You abandoned us."

"For your safety!"

In the corner a young woman held the hand of a small girl with a long blond braid. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in.

"Safety from what?" the boy hissed. "All you do is deflect and lie! Tell me the truth!" His hand clenched and unclenched. The edge of his mouth curled down, the veins on his neck stood out. Tina closed her eyes and took a deep breath in.

"Magic is real," she said, and the boy closed his eyes, still as a statue. She tilted her head at him. In the corner the woman clutched the girl to her. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

The boy's eyes snapped open, blazing black. He reached out a hand and screamed. Black smoke poured out of his mouth, out of his nose, out of every pore in his body. Tina stood there, hands outstretched, motionless. With a curse Newt slammed open the door.

" _Protego_!" he screamed, leaping in front of Tina. A bright silver shield appeared in front of them but as the black smoke hurtled towards them cracks appeared.

"Oh Newt," Tina whispered as the shield started to break. She raised her hand and suddenly her wand appeared. "You shouldn't have followed me."

* * *

 _Next chapter: A battle commences and Leta returns for a visit._


End file.
